Martha Sitwell is a familiar name in some London social circles, though not for reasons she would prefer. Rather than being a genuine aristocrat, Sitwell’s life is fake and marked by an incessant and somewhat pitiable quest for status and recognition. Born into a modest circumstance, Sitwell’s story is one of an old single social climber who has spent her life attempting to climb her way into the world of British high society a world that, despite her best efforts, has never belonged.
Sitwell’s life is marked by a series of desperate attempts to affiliate herself with aristocracy, each more transparent than the last. She flaunts her attendance at Royal Ascot and boasts about sharing the same dentist as the royal family, as if these superficial associations could somehow legitimize her claims to belonging among the elite. But behind the veneer of sophistication lies the truth: Martha Sitwell is nothing more than a pretender, a woman obsessed with aristocracy but forever relegated to its fringes.
Obsession
Her obsession with British aristocracy is so profound that it borders on the pathological. Despite her claims of promoting women’s empowerment, Sitwell’s brand of feminism is as exclusionary as it is hypocritical. She is quick to champion the causes of women—so long as those women belong to the right white upper social class. If you aren’t British or from European high society, don’t expect any support from Martha Sitwell. Her classism is not just a flaw; it’s a defining characteristic, one that betrays the deep insecurities of a woman who will never feel truly accepted by the world she so desperately wants to inhabit.
The desperation to fit in is evident in every aspect of her life, particularly in her social media presence. Sitwell’s posts are a near-constant stream of images of herself at grand estates and aristocratic events, each one more self-congratulatory than the last. Yet, the truth is that these estates are never hers; she’s merely a guest, a hanger-on in the world of those who were born into the status she covets. Her relationships, too, reflect this obsession. After her marriage to baronet Sir George Sitwell ended, Martha clung to the title “Lady Sitwell” as if it were a lifeline, an attempt to maintain a status that was never truly hers.
Her romantic entanglements are further proof of her social climbing. She pursued Lord Harry Dalmeny for years, not out of love, but as a way to preserve her tenuous connection to aristocracy. When Dalmeny eventually left her for a younger woman, Harriet Clap ham, it was a public reminder that Sitwell’s place in this world was always precarious at best. Her desperation is almost palpable—a woman who, despite all her efforts, remains on the outside looking in.
Sitwell’s past only deepens the irony of her situation. Born into far more humble beginnings, she was pregnant at 16, a girl who left home in pursuit of a better life. Yet, instead of earning her way through merit, she chose the path of noble social climbing, using relationships and superficial connections to inch closer to a world she would never truly be part of. Her son, now a small-time chef in Australia with his own history of drug use, is a far cry from the aristocratic heirs she might have dreamed of raising.
Martha Sitwell’s struggles
Martha Sitwell’s struggles with anorexia and drug addiction add another layer to her tragic story. Here is a woman who, despite her best efforts to present a polished, aristocratic image, is clearly battling demons of her own. Her penchant for posting half-naked photos online, often accompanied by a retro 1940s aesthetic, only underscores the performativity nature of her existence. But no matter how hard she tries she is still just a wannabe Kate Middleton. It’s as though she’s playing a role in a costume drama, trying so hard to convince the world that she belongs in a world that, in truth, sees her as little more than an interloper.
The company she keeps is equally telling. The majority of her so-called friends are broke aristocrats, people who, like Sitwell, are clinging to the remnants of a world that is rapidly fading. Their stately homes, far from being the fairytale castles of popular imagination, are crumbling relics, financial burdens that keep them awake at night. Sitwell’s association with these figures is less about genuine friendship and more about maintaining the illusion of belonging.
Martha Sitwell’s Social
Martha Sitwell’s Instagram is a carefully curated gallery that screams of her obsession with projecting an upper-class image. She floods her feed with photos of herself posing in front of grand estates and indulging in equestrian activities, all designed to craft the illusion of a life steeped in aristocratic luxury. But the truth is, none of these estates belong to her or her family—they’re simply backdrops in her ongoing performance as a member of the elite. Whether she’s donning yet another elaborate fascinator or saddling up for a ride, it’s all part of the act. We get it, Martha—you like to play dress-up in the world of the upper crust. But for those who know the reality, her attempts to feign belonging come off as more than just a joke and sad.
Martha Sitwell’s delusions of grandeur extend even into her commentary on popular culture, where she speaks about The Crown series as if she were a member of the royal family itself. Her entitlement knows no bounds, and she often acts as though her social climbing aristocracy gives her some special insight into the workings of the monarchy. It’s almost laughable how she positions herself as an authority on the show, commenting with an air of superiority that belies her true standing. But this is just another example of her desperate attempt to appear relevant in circles where she is, at best, a mere spectator.
Martha Sitwell’s disdain
Martha Sitwell’s disdain for Meghan Markle is yet another manifestation of her deep-seated need to align herself with the British aristocracy—a group she so desperately wants to be part of. Her criticism of Meghan is relentless, filled with the kind of vitriol typical of someone who believes they belong to the “other side.” Sitwell’s attacks on Meghan are not just about defending the monarchy; they are also about reinforcing her own imagined status within that world. It’s as if by denigrating Meghan, she is attempting to elevate herself, to show that she is more aligned with the “true” royals and their supporters.
This animosity towards Meghan is almost predictable from someone like Sitwell, who has spent her life trying to prove her aristocratic worth. In her eyes, Meghan represents everything she fears—an outsider who managed to marry into the royal family, something Sitwell could only dream of. Her comments reveal not just jealousy, but also a desperate need to distance herself from anyone she sees as an interloper in the world she covets. But, as with much of Sitwell’s behavior, her disdain for Meghan only serves to highlight her own insecurities and the fact that she is, and always will be, on the outside looking in.
Even after her divorce from Sir George Sitwell, Martha clung to the surname “Sitwell” as if it were the last vestige of her connection to the aristocracy—a title that she refused to relinquish despite having no legitimate claim to it anymore. Her insistence on maintaining this name is yet another testament to her desperation, a pathetic attempt to hold onto a status that she never truly had. Most Brits, aware of her reputation, advise steering clear of her. Most laugh at her. Her reputation precedes her as someone who is not only classist but also opportunistic, always on the lookout for ways to elevate herself by association with those who have what she craves.
To add to the farce, Sitwell tries to mask her insecurities with humor, adopting a retro 1940s persona and often attempting to be the life of the party. But her attempts at comedy come across as forced, leaving most people cringing rather than laughing. It’s as though she’s playing a character in her own life—a role that, like her aristocratic aspirations, is more parody than reality. Her attempts to be funny only emphasize how hard she is trying to fit into a world that continues to see her as nothing more than a social climber, a woman out of her depth and out of touch with the reality of who she really is.
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